


Need to Feel The Thunder

by BleedingCoffee



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Community: fma_fic_contest, F/M, Flirting, Might be sleeping on the couch, Olivier isn't amused by Roy, Royai - Freeform, Save the Chocolates and Flowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-18
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2018-02-13 18:12:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2160198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleedingCoffee/pseuds/BleedingCoffee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roy Mustang decides to flirt with Olivier Armstrong.  Response to a prompt on Livejournal's fma_fic_contest, prompt 280 Teatime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Need to Feel The Thunder

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own FMA
> 
> Summary: Roy Mustang decides to flirt with Olivier Armstrong. Response to a prompt on Livejournal's fma_fic_contest, prompt 280 Teatime. (up til first break the rest is simply because I couldn't help but expand on this as I had fun with these two. ) 
> 
> Warnings: RoyAi, Mustang Vs Armstrong, Sexually suggestive adults.
> 
> One-Shot, just to get this out of my head. Title is from the Garth Brooks song.

_Need to Feel the Thunder_

 

* * *

 

Olivier Armstrong was not amused by any of it; Not Central Command, not the homunculus and most certainly not Roy Mustang. Yet here the idiot was, sitting across from her with that ridiculous grin on his face and a cup of tea in his hand. _He_ seemed to be amusing himself with the notion of trying to court her as a cover to pass information, however annoying her with flowers and afternoon tea was going a little far. Well two could play at this game. “Got a thing for blonds, huh Mustang?”

 

Roy paused with the teacup at his lips and furrowed his eyebrows. He could tell from the look in her eye that it wasn't some kind of code and a few hairs on his arm stood up straight. She had a weird look, like a cat toying with it's prey. He gave her a cheery grin and replied, “I'm color blind when it comes to beautiful women.”

 

She smiled and ran her finger around the edge of her teacup and watched his eyes follow the movement. “Well with Lt. Hawkeye it must be nice having the ability to order her around to do your bidding. How do you really think you'll fare against an older woman...and a superior officer?”

 

He jumped a little as she stood and slowly came over to his side of the table. He wisely put his teacup down, careful to not get the steaming hot liquid near anything vital. There was that look again, the jungle cat stalking her prey while licking her lips and.....licking her lips!?! “I expected you to be forward, Olivier, however I didn't expect you to move this fast.”

 

She put her hand on his shoulder and pushed down on him to make sure he wasn't going anywhere. Her other hand found his right shoulder and gripped it tightly to show him exactly how strong she was. She could feel him tense and suck in a deep breathe of air as she bent down next to his ear and whispered. “Forward? I take what I want, it's why I outrank you Mustang. Fast? Was it not Sun Tzu who said 'Quickness is the essence of war'?”

 

Roy cleared his throat and tried to formulate a comeback. She had him rattled now and he never expected her to make a move like this. Clearly he had pushed her a bit too far. “Sun Tzu also said 'pretend inferiority and encourage his arrogance.' Clearly I underestimated your...”

 

“Desires? Sexual Prowess? Ability to dominate you?” She asked and was amused when she felt him catch his breathe again. “Why don't you swing by the mansion tonight with those flowers of yours and stay a while? See how long you can really last in a battle against me?”

 

Roy was frozen in his chair as she hovered over him and squeezed his shoulders even harder. Now that he knew homunculus were real, he had to wonder if succubus were as well.

 

* * *

 

 

“If homunculus, chimera and Philosopher's Stones are real than there is no reason a succubus can't be.” Roy fussed with his tie and debated on weather or not to slick back his hair.

 

“I told you not to push her.” Riza sat on the bed with her book in her hand and watched Roy prepare for his 'date' with General Oliver Armstrong. In true Roy Mustang fashion he had decided to be a mischievous idiot and irritate Armstrong now that she was stationed in Central by sending tons of flowers and insisting on teatime with her. She was a hostage, just like the rest of them, told to just behave until the homunculus's plans came to fruition. Roy took that as an open invitation to confuse them and also infuriate the woman who couldn't kill him because he was slated to be a human sacrifice. It was part of his “To Hell with them” policy that he had adopted after Bradley confronted him. It's why she was now sleeping at his place and he was now flirting with General Armstrong. She shook her head, it was going to be interesting when he was Furhur. “I thought you were some kind of sex God, why is it that aggressive woman that show interest in you have to be mythical monsters?”

 

He grinned at the sex God comment.. “Let's see...women who try to rape me: Fangirls, Lust, Armstrong. Yup all monsters.”

 

“So what category do I fall into?” Riza said simply as he turned to her with a smile.

 

He went over to the bed and crawled on it to place a kiss on her lips. “I file you under, “Future First Lady.”

 

She was glad he was so optimistic even with the Furhur scattering his staff to the wind. “Wear your uniform or she's going to call you a coward for not wearing the reminder that she outranks you.”

 

He frowned. Fake dating Armstrong was already a chore. “Anything else?”

 

Riza placed a kiss on his lips. “If she rapes you, I'm still going to consider it cheating and make you sleep on the couch.”

 

“I'm not doing this to actually sleep with her.”

 

“ _You're_ not.” She said. “However I think you underestimate how much General Armstrong really doesn't like you. She'll do it just to humiliate you and prove she's top dog.”

 

“Frigid bitch is more like it.” He mumbled.

 

“You're the one instigating this.” Riza reminded him.

 

“I can't let her win!”

 

“You started it.” Riza replied and just rolled her eyes. “Nevermind. Change into your uniform, the last thing you want is to be late. She's big on punctuality.”

 

“Did you date her? How do you know so much about Armstrong?” He sighed and began to take of his shirt and debated on whether or not he had time to strip and entice Riza into a little...

 

“You don't have time for that either.” She said and shook her head. “I'm just going to go make some tea and leave you to get dressed for your date.”

 

He pouted as he stood there with his shirt unbuttoned and she pinched his nipple on her way out the door. “Riza, I can't let her win!”

 

“I'll find one of Hayate's training whistles so you can wear it as a rape whistle.” She chuckled and continued the conversation from the living room of the apartment. “You're going to need it.”

 

“Boring work shirt..check.” He grabbed his uniform shirt off the hanger and threw his dress shirt on the bed. Hopefully he could come home tonight and Riza would be wearing it and nothing else. He put on his work shirt and grumbled as the stiff fabric irritated his nipple that had been recently tweaked. “How does a guy get raped by a girl anyhow? Seriously, that woman makes my balls tuck in closer to my body for warmth.”

 

“You made your bed, lie in it.”

 

He shook his head and dropped his pants. He hated wearing his uniform after work. He yanked his blue trousers off the chair and put them on, then grabbed his jacket before going to sit on the bed so he could put his boots back on. “She probably does force her victims to make the bed after she's done with them. Unless she devours them like a mantis.”

 

“Roy! Stop badmouthing her when you're the one who started this!”

 

“Well she's only going to insult me to my face and I'm going to have to be a gentleman and just take it.”

 

Riza laughed. “I'm pretty sure I've heard you say, “Thank you ma'am, may I please have another?”. Haven't I?”

 

“To _you_!” He finished tying his shoelace and picked up his jacket again to prepare to leave. “Not some dominatrix ice queen with a desire to verbally emasculate me every chance she gets.”

 

Riza stood and walked over to place the whistle around his neck. She gently kissed his lips and then patted his cheek. “Be back by midnight or go sleep in your office.”

 

“What exactly are you imagining me doing to her that I'm going to be there that long?” He leaned in for another kiss but her finger met his lips to prevent it.

 

“Once again, I'm not expecting _you_ to do much of anything.” She chuckled.

 

 

* * *

 

Roy stood on the steps of the Armstrong mansion with flowers, chocolates and his best smile. What the hell did anyone need a house this big for anyway? It probably had it's own zip code.

 

Olivier opened the door and looked him over. “Well at least you wore your uniform. About the only way I could have thought less of you is if you showed up in a suit like a pussy afraid to wear his rank in front of me.”

 

He frowned as she turned her back and he stuck his tongue out at her before stepping into the house and kicking the door shut behind him. It's like everything that came out of her mouth was laced with venom and ridicule. “I brought you flowers, of course they pale in comparison to...”

 

“Your flowery bullshit?” She grabbed the flowers and threw them into the fountain in the foyer. “Why should I be surprised you waltz in here trying to kiss my ass in order to gain favor? Standard operating procedure for you.”

 

Roy huffed. _Keep calm Roy, she's just baiting you._ “I'm guessing you hate chocolates too?”

 

“I'll settle for the sweet taste of your tears of humiliation.”

 

“You wouldn't know romance even if it came in a field artillery model!” He threw the candy box in the fountain and growled. “You frigid, bitter old bitch.”

 

“So what's next? A corny line about how you're going to warm up my icy heart with your Flames of Passion? Isn't that what you specialize in? Drama and fire puns?” She purred. “Sit your ass down and have your damned tea.”

 

He looked to a table in the room he had followed her into and noticed a piano and a small table with doilies and teacups. He just wanted some damned coffee, he hated tea. Everyone assumed he had to like it because he was half Xingese but he really just loved a good cup of coffee. Instead of arguing he sat down and was surprised when she kicked the chair out from under him and he fell to the floor. He opened his eyes and she was pouncing, with two forks in her hands and he didn't have a chance to react to it.

 

Olivier slammed the salad forks into the floor, piercing his uniform sleeves and driving deep into the heart pine planks. She sat on his legs and snorted. _Hero of Ishval my ass!_ He couldn't even open his eyes fast enough to see her attack. “Just going to glare at me? Unless they issue you fire-starter contacts I doubt that's going to get you anywhere. No wonder you need a bodyguard to protect your useless ass.”

 

He couldn't twist his hands around to take out the forks, they were firmly wedged in the wood. She sat on his legs and prevented him from trying to wiggle out of his jacket. He was glad she didn't start bragging about her men of Briggs and survival training and wresting bears. Clearly she did other things in her spare time as this seemed a bit more practiced. Then her hand snaked into his pant pocket and he growled, “You must be rusty, that's not how you access what you're looking for...”

 

She pulled out his gloves and shoved them into his mouth then leaned over him and slipped an envelope off the table into his uniform. “I was just going to give this to you at teatime but you had to piss me off. Seriously Mustang, you want to run this country then you better improve your diplomacy skills. What made you think flowers and tea would win me over?”

 

He blinked at her as she took a pair of pink fluffy, sparkly handcuffs off the chair next to her and clipped one to his left wrist and ripped the fork out of the floor. It was too quick to struggle and try to fight her as she ripped his other arm loose and then threw him at the piano.

 

Oliver walked over and clipped the other handcuff on his wrist, around the leg of the 1000lb piano. “By the way my sister's recital starts at 7 tomorrow night. I'll drop the keys to those handcuffs off to Hawkeye in the morning. Give you the night to think about your failure.”

 

 _SHIT!_ Roy thumped his head on the floor as she left. He tried to spit out his gloves but she wedged them into his mouth so tight he was having a problem working his jaw open far enough to expel it He looked up at the piano and thought about carving a transmutation circle into the wooded leg of the instrument, but he had nothing but fingernails to work with. How the hell was he going to get out of this one?

 

* * *

 

“So why hasn't Colonel Mustang shown up for work today?”

 

Riza looked up surprised at that the question. She wasn't surprised the Furhur knew they often spent the nights together but more surprised that Roy was a no call, no show. Bradley stared at her, trying to find an answer in her face but she answered honestly, “I...don't know.”

 

Olivier walked into Bradley's office and placed some reports in his secretary's in-box.  “Mustang's taking a sick day. He has so many accrued I told him best to use them before he gets sacrificed. No point in saving them considering his future.“

 

Bradley blinked. Humans could be so confusing. So now Mustang was living with Lt Hawkeye and stepping out to spend the night at General Armstrong's? He understood Mustang's motives, but how the hell did he convince these two to not kill him for it? Was he trying to get himself killed before they could use him?

 

Riza's eyes grew wide as a pair of keys dropped onto her desk. She looked up and saw Bradley's befuddled face and seized the opportunity to assist in operation 'To Hell with Them'. She composed herself and picked up the keys. “Thank you General, I'm sure the Colonel's performance will improve now that he's had your survival training.”

 

Bradley shifted his eye to his secretary. What the hell? Was Mustang really so easily dominated?

 

Armstrong didn't really care what game Mustang was playing, but it did amuse her that Bradley was confused by this. “When you get your lunch break you might want to go unhandcuff that dumb shit from my sister's piano. She has a recital there tonight and as much as he likes the attention, I doubt a rabid group of teenage fangirls are going to be kind. Then again I wasn't and it seemed to leave him speechless...so whatever.”

 

Bradley blinked again as the woman General left the room. He shook his head. These humans should be thanking them for sacrificing all of civilization if this was as far as it managed to advance. Still, he was worried that this did seem uncharacteristic for the Colonel, either he was trying to experience life while he still had some to live or their information about him was all wrong. Well, from what they did know Lt. Hawkeye seemed to boss him around in the office. He watched her pocket the keys as if nothing unusual had happened. Huh. Either that man was the most charming thing alive or he was a lot better at taking orders from a woman than a man.

 

 


End file.
